In my mind it's the same thing. My throat actually hurt when I watched this. And the pain jab that I felt by remembering a sip of whisky mixed with water way back there in Momote Village makes me want to go up to her and light a match. I want to go, "Breath like a dragon. Come on. Be a sport. Let's see if your breath can be a blowtorch." I bet ten dollars her breath would light on fire. Because that's how bad that sip was.

Happy Mother's Day to all the good women here and elsewhere. If you go out for brunch or dinner, and you have a woman serving you, assume she's a mom, working on Mother's Day, and take care of her w/ a generous tip.

Just got back from seeing the mom's, taking wife out with my mom and my sister. There was a woman serving us, but I'm fairly sure she was no mom. I'm also fairly sure that her red eyes, puffy lids, along with the occasional raspy cough; wasn't, as she said, because she had inhaled some dust (unless it was some of that special dust). So I'm not looking forward to next week now.

The mom looks like Mary Matalin. The one that's married to that Clinton baldy. She does not approve of the chugging of the white wine and was going to reproach the daughter but noticed the camera at the last second.